I cleaned out the refrigerator, what I didn’t think Dawn or the kids would eat while I was gone, put it in a cooler with a freezer pack while I was at work then got it out once I came… Read More ›
Memoir
Field notes from the Pacific Coast | 101 to Aberdeen
This is a series of posts from three days out on my favorite stretch of the Pacific Coast. The posts don’t need to be read in order and serve as a memoir experiment with side-stories from related trips and themes… Read More ›
Entering Elma | field notes from the Pacific Coast
May 28, SAMMAMISH By the time I got to Kalaloch they’d stopped serving breakfast and were turning things over for lunch, but not in a rush for anyone. We were backing up in the lobby and I was second, a… Read More ›
‘One more time around’
Now there’s a new sound in the back yard, the sound from the cottonwood leaves when the wind comes in from the west, and all those tiny hands clap, and remind me of the tide coming in or going out,… Read More ›
‘Like frogs or rabbits’ | on living in the present, and wandering
May 15, 2017 Faint rain, imagined snow. Mid May and it’s still stew weather, heavy stouts. I have to run the heat in the morning driving in to work but refuse to wear a jacket and then turn off the… Read More ›
Sugar for the pill
I left work, got in the car, turned up the heat. Stopped at Whole Foods and spent $59 on sushi, beer, incense, an organic squash and head of garlic. Caught myself chewing the hair that grows beneath my lip driving… Read More ›
Fugue in G Minor (“keep it like a secret”)
It was hard to understand my relationship with that CD. I remember the day I bought it in Portland my last visit to Loren before Germany. I knew the record but felt I should own it on CD, I only… Read More ›
Blue skied an’ cleared one Saturday
The slow collapse of order brought me comfort, the release to chaos. The house in disarray with shoes everywhere and kids and unclaimed cups and odd dining hours (10 o’clock for dinner) that reminded me of our times in France… Read More ›
First there is a mountain then there is no mountain, then there is
There was the outfit I’d worn the day before and probably the day before that, in a pile on the floor by the bed. I sat up and got into it like I was going in reverse, stood up, slapped… Read More ›
‘Reentry Burns,’ coming back to America
When I got back from Germany Dawn met me at the airport and we went for lunch at the brewhouse. The bathroom smelled the same as it always did and I think the bartender recognized me, even though we’d been… Read More ›
Bill Pearse 